


Hope on a hopeless ship

by sycamoretree



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, Class Issues, Disasters, Durin Family Angst, Family, Grief/Mourning, Panic, RMS Titanic, Separations, Sinking Ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1834459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sycamoretree/pseuds/sycamoretree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Thranduil is trying to find safety for him and Legolas on Titanic while the ship slowly but surely sinks into the cold Atlantic Ocean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope on a hopeless ship

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the randomly generated prompt Titanic AU with characters Thranduil and Legolas on my Tumblr. The fill was supposed to only consist of the first lines, but then I got carried away and made a compete oneshot out of it.

Lord Greenwood’s fine, pale hands were numb as he held his young son in his arms. In his haste, the father had forgotten to take the gloves from the pocket of his black overcoat, or his top hat that probably remained abandoned in their luxurious cabin.

Thranduil hefted his small son onto his hip and felt his Legolas trembling through the layers of thick fabric between them.

“We’ll be safe. We’ll be safe,” Thranduil murmured into Legolas’ fair hair to soothe his only son and heir as he made his way through the throng of shouting, shoving, and panicked people from all the three classes. It seemed like all the passengers were on the deck at the same time where a cold April night chilled everyone to the very bones they were trying to save.

Thranduil, a lord by name but absent funds to invest in his son’s future, had hazarded a great sum on two tickets to a new life in America. The father couldn’t even afford to pay for their servants to follow. But he had kept faith in what he was doing even when he had sold their mansion to take care of the last debts to English banks and industrialists, and to free capital to use.

Despite his sacrifices, it seemed like God wouldn’t grant him mercy and give him another, more prosperous life.

“God, save us,” Thranduil whispered with blue lips when the ship groaned and everyone stilled before terror spread like pamphlets.

“Father,” Legolas whined and burrowed his face against Thranduil’s shoulder as his hands clutched the collar of his coat and his white, previously pristine shirt. None of that mattered now, when Thranduil hurried on long, purposeful legs to get away from the water he had seen rising on the stairs leading below deck.

In his fast-beating heart, Thranduil was beginning to understand his choices. One hour ago, he had refused to give Legolas to a member of the crew who reached for the boy as he stood on the railing of a lifeboat filled with mostly first class women and children.

Thranduil had begged the man to let him, a widower and the son’s only hope, climbed into the boat but the man had glowered at him before rudely shouting at his face, “Women and children only!”

Now, however, when more white boats rocked on the dark ocean as they disappeared from the sinking ship, Thranduil realized there wouldn’t be many boats left, and it seemed unlikely that the crew would change the order and allow men to climb into the boats.

Thranduil spotted something by his left shoe and swiftly bent to pick up the deserted life jacket and promptly guided his squirming son to put it on.

“Keep this on. It will keep you safe and warm. You’re such a good boy,” Thranduil said gently and nearly staggered when he spotted the familiar ropes that kept a life boat beside the deck so far.

He hurried towards it and breathed in the scent of soap and child from his son’s hair. He had two choices: to keep Legolas with him until the bitter end and keep hoping for a miracle, or to let the boy have one fairly certain chance to survive this night at least, but to forever be parted from his father. Legolas was his all. It was for Legolas’ sake that Lord Thranduil had marched aboard the enormous ship to seek luck in America. He couldn’t maintain his own egoistic reasons to be comforted by Legolas for perhaps one more hour if there was a slim chance for the boy to escape this hell.

Thranduil would have to say goodbye.

***

Thranduil hugged Legolas tighter and reached the boat that was already packed with crying and terrified women and children. Thranduil patted Legolas on the back and leaned back to observe his face.

“Here’s a boat, love. I’m going to place you in it,” Thranduil stated gently and before Legolas could react, Thranduil had put him down on the railing of the lifeboat, attempting to find an unoccupied spot for Legolas to sit comfortably in.

But having been robbed of his father’s warm embrace, the boy made a querying sound and attempted to stand, which prompted Thranduil to lean further over the railing of Titanic to push him down and avoid a would be fatal accident involving Legolas and the gap between the ship and the lifeboat.

“Legolas, sit,” Thranduil commanded firmly and Legolas turned betrayed eyes towards him and yet clutched the hand on his narrow shoulder.

“Father, carry me!” he whimpered.

Thranduil bit his lip to keep himself from hauling Legolas back into his arms that could offer no more protection in this perilous moment.

“Not now, my boy. You must sit down.”

As Thranduil struggled with his son, he noticed commotion beside him where a man in his own age handled two boys that cried as they sat down on the bench in the life-boat.

The man had dark, ruffled hair from sleeping. Unkempt stubble tinted with grey that spoke of lower classes reached around his jaw, and his clothes were rumpled. But instead of feeling repulsion, Thranduil became intrigued by the man’s businesslike motions when he calmed the two boys.

One boy was very small, some years younger than Legolas and he shared the colour of hair with the adult man. The boy whimpered and under the too large cap his eyes were shining with tears.

The other boy must have been a couple of years older than Legolas and while he differed from his family with his golden hair, he wore the same resolute expression as the man did. A mask of courage that was failing only by the way his lips trembled.

“My lads, listen to me,” the grown-up said steadily and patted their shoulders, “You have your lifejackets on and are together. That’s all that matters. You’ll be safe and mother will be waiting for you in New York. She’ll find you.”

“Ma here?” the smaller boy asked in a sob and the older, probably his brother, wrapped an arm around him and stated, “She’s already in America, silly. Didn’t you hear uncle?”

The man was about to say something when Thranduil felt a searing sting on his hand. He gasped and pulled back his hand, decorated with a red teeth mark from a bristling, reluctant Legolas.

“Legolas! I told you to sit down!”

Thranduil hissed with anger that his son refused to see the rescue his father was providing for him.

“Take me with you, father,” his son murmured as his rage changed into remorse. Thranduil considered his pleading son and was about to reach out when a hand clenched around his arm. Thranduil searched for the man it belonged to and saw the uncle to the boys looking back at him.

“Sir, if you’re anxious to leave your boy alone, my nephews would surely keep him company.”

“I believe company would help settle my son…” Thranduil began haltingly when he was interrupted. Behind the other man, the fair-haired boy sniffled and burst out in a shrill voice, “But we’ve saved a seat for you, uncle!”

The man’s features twisted before Thranduil’s eyes and then the dark-haired man glanced at the boy.

“Don’t worry, Fili. I’ll be on the next boat. Your task is to be brave and hold onto your brother so you don’t lose each other. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, uncle,” the nephew whispered sadly.

The man returned his attention to Thranduil and noticed he still held onto his arm. The man let go, but instead of brushing away dirt from his coat, Thranduil bowed his head in greeting, or even submission.

“Please, let the children comfort my Legolas.”

The words left his chilled lips faster than he would have preferred, but time was working against him on the sinking ship.

The man nodded once before he sternly instructed, “Fili, move so this lad can sit beside you.”

Thranduil carefully helped his son down on the bench beside the older boy and smiled encouragingly when Legolas turned wide eyes towards him.

“Father, there’s surely room for you, too.”

Thranduil bent over the railing of the doomed ship and tugged up the collar of Legolas’ coat.

“Not on this boat, darling. Do you see all the people around you? No-one else can fit in this boat. But you will go with it nevertheless.”

Legolas got a frown between his brows and he made to stand when Thranduil gently but firmly pushed him down.

“Sit down in the boat, Legolas,” he instructed to leave no room for protests, but he could read the fear in his son’s blue eyes. They would be parted from each other.

Then, the older boy beside Legolas tugged on his fine coat, and explained with certainty despite the snot running from his nose, “Don’t worry. Your father will sit beside uncle in the boat for men. It’s hanging on the other side of the ship, so we’ll find them later on the ocean.”

Thranduil dared to cast a glance at the other man who met his eyes and bore a look of begging. Thranduil gave him a small nod, accepting to uphold the lie in favour of calming their boys.

“How lucky for me. Don’t you see, Legolas; I’ll only be away for a short time, and then we’ll meet again,” he smiled. Thankfully, his son believed him and sat hunched in the lifeboat.

***

While the two men worked side by side to secure scarves around the neck of the boys and button their coats completely to prevent the cold from harming their small bodies, they got properly introduced to each other, which might have seemed pointless so close to the end.

“I’m Lord Greenwood,” Thranduil said and from the corner of his eye he spotted how the other man raised his bushy brows.

“Lord Thranduil Greenwood? Finally a face to that name. I’m Mister Thorin Durin.”

Thranduil’s hands stilled on Legolas’ coat. The business-minded and once brilliant mine owner who was bankrupt and vanished from English society after Smaug’s Gas and Electricity Company introduced other sources of heating up homes to those who previously had leaned on coal.

Thranduil himself had in a letter denied Thorin to lend money from him a few years ago when Thorin’s business went downhill. How ironic to meet the man who now would offer security for Legolas. What an unexpected act of kindness.

“You’re doing better now, I take it, considering you can afford three tickets on Titanic,” Thranduil pointed out gently and received a huff, but Thorin did answer eventually while his large hands rubbed the brown-haired boy’s arms warmly.

“My sister has founded a bakery company in New York. Everyone always needs bread, she says in her letters.”

Thorin paused and suddenly wore an sincere expression on his weary face. In a whisper, he said, “With your permission, she’ll take in your son and give him love, education, and raise him to be a gentleman equal to Fili and Kili. I know she will.”

Thranduil’s mouth dried and he rubbed a hand gracelessly under his running nose. He was moved and so grateful for the offered and generous security for Legolas when he was left without his father in the world.

“I trust your word, Mr. Durin. Thank you,” Thranduil let out hoarsely and Thorin gave him a comforting smile.

Lest he started weeping in gratitude, Thranduil chose to avert his eyes and begin to unload his possessions on his person to Legolas’ pockets. Gold watch, cufflinks, wallet; either to have as memories, or to sell in hard times. The lord wouldn’t send his son empty-handed into a new country. He hoped his bank would make sure to find Legolas and give him his father’s remaining money when the news of his death reached the world.

Lastly, Thranduil tugged off his finest silver ring that had intertwined branches embracing a sizeable, uncommon white sapphire. It was an heirloom in the Greenwood family. Thranduil held up the ring between his thumb and index fingerto let Legolas study it closely.

“Legolas, this was my father’s ring, and my grandfather’s and so on. I pass it on to you now. Never sell this. It is an heirloom that will ensure that you, along with your hair, have enough evidence to prove that you are my son. It will give you the right to my possessions.”

Legolas stared at the ring and uttered with a shaking voice, “Is it really mine now? And I’ll always have it?” Thranduil nodded and put the ring safely in a deep pocket in Legolas’ coat.

“Don’t forget it’s there, my darling. Remember that with that ring, you can tell important men that you are my son.”

***

After that, neither Thorin nor Thranduil had more values to bestow upon their relatives.

A shout from the crewman at the fore of the lifeboat alerted the two small families that the boat was about to be lowered. Last words flowed from the two men’s increasingly thicker voices and the children sensed the impending separation even with the promised _reunion_ in their minds. The three crying children recognized something awful but concealed in thetone of the grown men; like a magical trick they knew was happening but couldn’t figure out.

Thorin’s voice sounded upset when he uttered, “Kili, you’ve got to let go of my hand.”

“Uncle,” the boy sobbed and the older brother’s lips quavered. Thorin withdrew his hand from the tiny finger’s grip, but cupped the dark-haired boy’s tearstained cheek.

“You are a survivor, Kili. You and your brother. You are Durins and we are all hardy and strong. Now, I have a mission for you two brave brothers. When you meet you mother, tell her I promised a home in New York for little Legolas here. She’ll have to take care of another boy, and I suppose she’ll need to know that quickly to make all the necessary arrangements. I love you boys, good luck.”

Thorin lifted their small caps and placed kissed on their crowns. Thranduil’s heart was pounding and his face was a frozen mask hiding his true emotions. It was time to say goodbye. He swallowed and rocked Legolas softly by the collar to gain his attention.

“Now, be kind to your hosts. They will be like a new family to you.”

“To us, you mean, father?” Legolas corrected as tears ran down his flushed cheeks.

“Yes, to us,” Thranduil lied. Then he allowed himself a chuckle to conceal his despair that was threatening to fill his eyes with unshed tears.

“It seems like you finally get the brothers you always wanted. Imagine it, my darling boy; playmates close to you whenever you want to go on adventures.”

Then, Thranduil was too soon and too fast being shoved back from the lifeboat when a band of crewmen created a wedge between passengers and the people in the lifeboat to make it possible for it to be lowered without being flooded by desperate men and women.

The boat rustled, then shook considerably when the ropes began to move and the three boys gasped and held onto each other as they madly sought the faces of their relatives in the crowd.

“Thorin! Thorin, I can’t!” the oldest boy cried out with a crumbling face and the brown-haired boy’s breaths hitched with terror at both his brother’s reaction and the jostling boat.

Thranduil moved aside so Thorin could get a clear view of the boys. The man waved at them and called over the shouts, “Yes, you can, Fili! I’ll be down there soon, myself. Take care of Kili and Legolas. You are my brave lion!”

Thranduil’s own hands hung limply at his sides when he saw Legolas fastening intelligent eyes on him and moving his lips, perhaps whispering, but even if the word was lost in the noise surrounding them, Thranduil understood.

‘ _Adad._ ’

Thorns were piercing Thranduil’s heart. The word stemmed from a foreign language he himself had taught his son even before guvernantes were hired. Legolas had used the word during his first years before being taught the proper word _father_ when addressing Thranduil.

“God bless you, child, and may you live a long and happy life,” Thranduil murmured and hardly noticed the passengers who shared the boat with his son: the reaching and bawling daughters and sons, the mothers who cried and were held back from leaving the lifeboat to return to their adolescent sons who watched with pain and unsureness as their families left them abandoned on the sinking ship.

The boat disappeared from view and Thranduil didn’t trust his legs to bear him if he intended to go to the railing to stare down at his son.

“Here.”

Numbly, Thranduil turned his shattered face to the side. Thorin nudged something against his arm and when Thranduil looked down at the rough hand, he noticed a shining hip flask in it.

“It’s brandy. Take it. You need it.”

Glistening tears in Thorin’s eyes fell on his beard and Thranduil’s throat clenched at the loss of his child. He took the offered drink.

While the beverage burned and gave something resembling warmth to his icy mouth, Thranduil tipped his head back and stared up. Rockets were alighting the dark sky and a tone from a violin in the midst of yelling and fighting passengers reached his ears.

Lord Greenwood was crippled when his son was no longer in his arms, in his sight, in his presence.

The fireworks ended but the people kept jostling Thorin and Thranduil as they stood next to each other.

“I will go mad if I’m left alone here with my grief,” Thranduil said honestly and added while looking at the other man, “Please, can we stay together; two acquainted gentlemen suffering from lost prosperity and disappeared boys?”

Thorin sighed heavily and brushed his knuckles against his damp eyes. “I share the sentiment. At last, we agree on something, Lord Greenwood.”

Thorin smiled fleetingly, before he widened his eyes and Thranduil spun to see what the man had discovered.

The water had at last flooded the stairs and was rushing along the polished tiles of the deck.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to end the story here, partly because this is intended to be a limited oneshot and not a novel, and partly because the ending adds to the tragedy and suspense of trapped characters in grave danger. However, you are free to imagine that Thorin and Thranduil together managed to survive the sinking ship and reunite with Legolas, Fili, and Kili (I know I will think that!). I hope you liked this despite the disaster and angsty theme. Thanks for reading!


End file.
